Page 72 of The Promise Of Rain

His calloused fingers dipped to circle my entrance, shallowly fucking me before dragging all that sweet arousal up to torment my clit.

I mewled, a sound caught halfway between a plea and a sob.

“So swollen, so wet, so ready,” he rumbled.“You deserve this.You deserve to be pleasured within an inch of your fucking life.”

“Do it,” I demanded.

He chuckled softly.

How could he laugh and tease?Was he not as wound up and needy as I was?

Wrapping his hand around the nape of my neck, he angled my mouth to take his kiss.

Not slow and lazy and methodical but deep and hungry and demanding as his hips rolled underneath me and chased my thoughts away.

His other hand trailed up and down my slit, teasing my entrance, circling that oh-so-sensitive bud, and driving me higher with every pass.

I flexed my hand, wanting to touch him, but he held me fast.

His unrelenting kiss left me breathless, his fingers pushed me closer to the edge as they thrust inside me, first one, then two, before returning to my clit.

My head dropped back, the desire to free myself forgotten.

“You’re going to come for me, Jenny,” he growled.

“Okay,” I breathed.

“And you’re going to remember just who it is you belong to, who owns this sweet pussy.”

I cried out in shock at his words, but my body clamped around his fingers, fully onboard.

“Oh, yes,” he groaned, nipping my lip.“No one else will ever touch you.You’re mine.”

My body curled forward, my eyes squeezing shut as my legs began to shake.

“Yes, sweetheart,” he murmured.“Let go.Give me all of it.”

My core clenched wildly around his fingers as his thumb gently pumped my clit.

“Beautiful,” he praised.

His lips nipped at mine, stealing every moan, every breath, as my orgasm rumbled through me like a freight train.

Gentling his kiss, his mouth wandered over my face as his fingers eased me through the aftershocks, dragging out the sweet torment until I lay limp in his arms.

“And I’m yours,” he promised, pressing one final kiss to my swollen, ravaged mouth.

“Thank you,” I breathed, lost in the sweet, hazy in-between.

“My extreme pleasure, baby.”

I trailed the tips of my fingers over his beloved face, lightly scratching the heavy layer of dark stubble shadowing his sharp jaw.

“Your turn,” I murmured.

He shook his head.

His rejection had the effect of dumping a bucket of icy water over my head.